


Shadows of the Night

by SapphicReverie



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Ghosts, Haunting, halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27321397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicReverie/pseuds/SapphicReverie
Summary: Vera receives a visit from her past.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Shadows of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> A little thing inspired by Halloween.

The rain hisses down in sheets, making the night seem even blacker, despite the full moon that burns blue-white between the pockets of shifting grey clouds overhead. Her thick silver-black mane plasters to her brow and against her hollow cheeks, rivulets of water running down before dripping off her sharp jaw. A tremor rocks her body as she stands in the darkened street, soaked to the bone, with fists clenched til she’s white-knuckled as her arms dangle lifelessly at her hips, jaw clenched so tightly her teeth ache.

“I can do this myself; you don’t need to be here. You’ll catch cold in this weather,” the wavy haired woman beside her whispers as she turns her head to watch Joan’s profile. Seeing the hard set of the older woman’s jaw, she knows her protestation falls on deaf ears. Joan doesn’t meet her eyes. Her steely gaze stays trained ahead on the house that lies across the street and the window that glows from the light behind the thin curtains. “That’s not how it works,” she retorts, her sharp tone fueled by the woman they cannot yet see, rather than the one standing beside her. “And I want to see the terror on her face,” she mewls with a dangerous edge to her smooth, husky timbre. She’s been waiting months for this golden opportunity. “But she might see you,” the shorter woman counters, thinking this will be the point that changes Joan’s mind.

Joan shifts then, her head moving slowly as she turns her long, ivory neck, the pale pink ring disappearing into one of the delicate creases of her throat. Her dark eyes look almost hollow as she meets Brenda’s gaze. “And?” she queries flatly. “She thinks we’re  _ both _ dead anyway, remember?” Brenda shakes her head and looks down at her hands, seeing through their translucent flesh, to the wet asphalt beneath them. She always forgets that she’s gone, given the way Joan sees and talks to her as if nothing has changed. Looking back up, she meets Joan’s severe gaze with a subtle tenderness in her eyes. “Alright, just be careful,” she acquiesces and with a brief nod she moves off toward the house.

___

Reaching into the shower, Vera turns on the faucet and twists the knob to adjust the temperature. She strips off her clothes as she waits for the water to warm and catches herself turning in the mirror as she admires the bump that’s just started to show in her usually flat belly. She smiles shyly as she rubs her palm over the small swell, watching herself in the mirror for a moment before her ocean eyes fall to her body as her fingers gently trace the growing life inside. After a few moments of admiration, she turns back to the shower, opening the stall door to test the water on an upturned palm. Satisfied with the temperature, she steps inside and beneath the warm cascade. Her eyes slip closed as she turns her face toward the stream and opens her mouth as the water splatters pleasantly against her skin.

From the corner of the doorway Brenda watches with a disgusted sneer. The unassuming, but surprisingly devious woman had fucked her over royally in life, before nearly costing Joan hers, so her hatred for the petite wench had followed her to the grave and she was all too keen to provide a bit of torment.

Seeing the opportune moment, she moves into the room and glides through the frosted glass of the shower stall. She places her hand on the knob and grins wickedly as she feels her cold grip transfer into the water and waits with gleeful anticipation for the icy rain to fall upon her unsuspecting prey. Suddenly Vera jumps with a shrill gasp as the freezing water tumbles from the showerhead, instantly provoking goosebumps upon her shocked flesh. She dodges the frigid waterfall and turns to the knob, surprised to find that it’s still in the same position she had set it when she turned it on. She turns it up a fraction and sticks her hand under the stream, pulling back instantly as the temperature nearly scalds her this time. Brenda watches on mirthfully as Vera struggles with the knob, shifting it in both directions to try and find the perfect setting again. Satisfied with her struggle, she glides back through the glass and waits for the moment to make her second strike. 

After another few moments, the shower turns off and Vera steps out onto the rug as she reaches for the towel. Too tempting to resist, Brenda tugs at the corner and laughs to herself as Vera watches it fall to the floor. A brief look of bewilderment crosses the naive woman’s face and it’s obvious that she doesn’t quite yet understand what she’s been witness to, so Brenda decides to up the ante. While Vera dries her legs, Brenda crosses to the sink and reaches up to the mirror above it that’s fogged with condensation. With her index finger, she draws two dots and beneath them adds a frown, dragging her finger down further at one end to give it a slightly unsettling appearance. Satisfied with her work, she steps back with a smile and waits again, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely across her chest.

Wrapping the towel around her body, Vera tucks the end at her chest to hold it in place and looks up to the sink. Her mouth falls open slightly as she sees the face drawn on the mirror. Trails of condensation stream down from the crooked frown, giving it an almost demented air that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. Reaching up, she swiftly wipes the drawing from the mirror and just as Brenda prepares herself to appear in the reflection, the doorbell rings. Vera nearly jumps through the ceiling, which sends Brenda cackling as she disappears down the hall and through the front door. She wishes the stupid woman could hear her as she goes, but the flash of fear she just witnessed is enough to slake her.

She drifts outside just as Joan is turning the corner off the front step and she follows her as she moves around to the side of the house at a vantage that she can safely watch unseen. A few moments later, the front door draws slowly open and Vera steps out onto the landing, looking warily in all directions before she looks down and sees the small square of white material placed just in front of the doormat.

Bending down, she picks it up and realizes it is a small, thin handkerchief. She unfolds it slowly, with a cautiousness that one might use to handle a dangerous snake. In one corner a small gold crown is embroidered and when she sees it, she drops the slip of fabric as if it were on fire. With one final fearful glance into the dark, she quickly goes back inside and slams the door. The sound of the lock engaging draws Brenda from her daze and she looks to Joan who wears a satisfied smile.

Joan rises from her crouched position and moves silently around the back of the house and Brenda follows. They stop outside a window on the other side. The curtains are still open and the bedside lamp illuminates it enough for Brenda to realize it’s Vera’s room. She watches Joan, who simply stares silently into the dimly lit space, and she knows that she’s waiting for the chance for her second attack. She waits patiently by her side, eager to see what the older woman has up her always crafty sleeve.

A few minutes later, Vera enters the room and goes to the bed to turn down the blankets. She moves briefly to the closet to hang her robe and then comes straight for the window. From the corner of her eye, Brenda looks to Joan and sees the smirk that begins to dimple her cheek. The tall woman takes a slow step forward and without turning her head calls to Brenda. “Let her see you,” Joan croons wickedly and they both step close just as Vera looks up to draw the curtains. 

They materialize from the darkness, demonic smiles curled across their faces, and Vera lets out a sudden scream. Sheer horror drains the color from her cheeks and she scrambles to pull the curtains closed, succeeding just as their visages melt back into the night. Joan feels the thrill of victory surge through her, a sensation so strong it’s akin to ecstasy.

Terrified, Vera turns on every light in the house and still doesn’t manage to get any sleep.


End file.
